


Lazy Day

by midoritakamine



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Past Fic, i guess you could call it that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 03:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12949899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midoritakamine/pseuds/midoritakamine
Summary: "Well aren't you the worst thing to see when I first open my eyes?""Yeah," Ibara's voice holds no shame in it as he gleefully smiles back, chin propped in his hand, "I am the worst. You always had bad taste, though."





	Lazy Day

**Author's Note:**

> god shit son of a fuck why is there so little ibayuzu content. i'm in Need. this fic contains my own take of what they were like back in that military-esque school HE mentioned they both went to
> 
> i don't know if this is fluff but if u consider lazily spending a day in bed and sharing a soda fluff then ur in luck

"Well aren't you the worst thing to see when I first open my eyes?"

"Yeah," Ibara's voice holds no shame in it as he gleefully smiles back, chin propped in his hand, "I am the worst. You always had bad taste, though."

Yuzuru scowls, rolling on his side to turn his back to Ibara. "Your voice is even worse."

"Thank you."

There's no point in getting up; today is their one off day, something about Christmas and the teachers (guards, adults that abuse their power, scum, or other names if you asked Yuzuru) didn't want to deal with the rough-housers around this time. Of course, said desires weren't given to the students. Why would they let them go home to visit families, to spend this joyous time of year in the company of those that were supposed to unconditionally love them?

_ Because none of us have that _ .

The other reason why Yuzuru surrenders himself to lying awake, turned away is because even if he decided to get out of the lukewarm bed (nobody ever said this school spent big for students' comfort), Ibara would simply follow him. He had a fun habit of chipping in with unnecessary comments just to piss Yuzuru off. He didn't let that habit die just because Yuzuru knew how to make his legs move.

He tunes back in after a second, rolling onto his back to look at Ibara as he says, "When'd you get here?"

"An hour ago," there's no sense of shame at the indirect confession to watching him sleep. Ibara is smiling widely, like he's proud of it. "I heard the guard stationed in my hallway leave, and I knew yours would already have fucked off. He doesn't like being here much anyway-"

"Doesn't like me much," Yuzuru cuts in with a hardly restrained smirk.

"-doesn't like you much," Ibara repeats, "and I figured you'd be all cold and lonely without me!"

He has to try his damndest not to roll his eyes, and even then he fails. "Reptiles are cold-blooded anyway, ass. You wouldn't help me warm up, Hebibara."

"Mean~"

"Just the truth."

"It is."

They stay like that for the next minute. Neither mind. Yuzuru is used to these pauses, these moments of silence where they communicate more than they would speaking. Ibara's eyes and face are more expressive, more truthful in the long run than a single word he says. The moments where they sit in silence are the ones he feels he gets to understand his partner in this nightmarish school better than himself.

Ibara's right brow rises a fraction. The corners of Yuzuru's mouth turn up and he shakes his head.

_ You want to get up? Rummage the kitchen for our weekly heist? _

_ Nah. Too much work. _

The bed creaks as Ibara reaches up and under the mattress of the empty top bunk. From underneath does he pull out a few energy bars and a bottle of soda. He whistles, impressed, and Yuzuru feels a smug sense of pride rumble in his chest. Why yes, he did strongarm those away from the guard that monitors his hallway.

(Strongarm is an exaggeration; if being friendly with Ibara taught him anything, it's verbal manipulation.)

They finish the food quickly, swiping the crumbs off the bed and onto the floor. It's not as if the guards had them clean their rooms, or even inspected them for food crumbs. The wrappers are stuffed back under the empty mattress on top, Ibara thudding back down with an 'oomph' noise. Left in between them is the unopened bottle of soda which Yuzuru swipes before Ibara has a chance.

"Heyyy-!"

Yuzuru takes a large swig of it, sighing as he pulls the top away from his lips. He hardly registers when Ibara's hand covers his own, pulling the bottle towards his own lips for a drink. If anything, when Ibara is done and smirking cheekily at him, he says, "What?"

"Indirect kiss. How scandalous!"

"That's all on you," he nudges Ibara's arm with his elbow, "since you went and took a drink after you knew I did first. Not my fault and I don't care." His free hand unconsciously twirls his hair; he must have lost his hair tie in his sleep, since it no longer holds his hair back in his signature tiny loose ponytail. "Afraid I have cooties or something? Grow up."

"Nah." Ibara's smirk falls briefly, and Yuzuru pays close attention out of the corner of his eye as he takes another drink. Ibara is about to be serious. "I'd of preferred a direct one, but I take what I can get in this place." Just like that, the smirk is back, the mask reattached with his best efforts. He would be convincing to Yuzuru if these guard drops weren't something he did often, and around him no less.

He lowers the bottle from his lips. "Why do you do that?"

"What?"

"Get so candid around me? I could easily turn everything against you or take advantage of it. Wakayoshi did it to you when you first got here." Yuzuru's free hand moves from his hair to Ibara's shirt collar, yanking it down to expose the healing scar from a shiv sharpened from a pencil. Ibara lets him with no protest, though the muscles around his eyes twitch. Discomfort. "Y'think I wouldn't turn you out like he did if it'd help me in here?"

"You wouldn't."

"Hah?"

Ibara closes his eyes. His smirk goes from enraging to knowledgable, and it makes his face way more punchable than it was a second ago. All-knowing Ibara is worse than bullshitting Ibara. "You're too nice. Besides," and the smirk drops completely, "you're turning into a pet soon anyway. You have to learn to hold secrets of the rich and famous. I'm likely your practice," the smirk is back, eyes open; he looks accusatory, "correct~?"

Yuzuru looks at the mattress above them. Stuck between the bars are both his and Ibara's identification cards from when they first enrolled. He knows Ibara's room mirrors this, only with their second round of cards stuck in his room. Where were they going to put the third round, he wonders occasionally. Maybe he'll take Ibara's, and Ibara will take his. That sounds fair.

The concept of them keeping their own identification cards doesn't cross his mind at all.

"Fushimiiiiii..."

"We're alone."

"Fushimi."

"Fine. Saegusa."

"Oh, mean!"

"Equivalent," he corrects.

"Ahaha," Ibara laughs behind a hand, "gross. Fine then." His hand moves to sweep hair behind his ear, gently knocking into his glasses as he gives himself a clearer view. Yuzuru notices bruising on the back of Ibara's neck, but he doesn't say anything.

See something, say nothing.

"What?" Ibara is silent for too long, and even their silent communication isn't getting a message across.

Eyes roll, and Ibara leans much too close for comfort. "Yuzuru." He exhales, and it makes a funny feeling run down Yuzuru's spine when he feels it hit his cheek softly.

"... I don't know what kind of trick you're pulling here." He takes a final drink of the soda, bottle now empty, and leans forward to kiss Ibara. Lips part, and even if it's lukewarm and not tasty and he's aware of the backwash Yuzuru splits the last taste of soda either of them will have until their next raid of the kitchen or next manipulation of a guard. Some of it runs down his chin as he pulls away, and he wipes it with the back of his hand.

Yuzuru can't help but smirk himself. Bullshitting Ibara makes him want to punch him. All-knowing Ibara makes him want to punch him. Dumbfounded Ibara, however, makes him want to tease him.

"What?" He throws the empty bottle across the room, satisfied when the glass shatters and echoes in the room. "You wanted me to kiss you,  _ Ibara _ ."

Though they spend the rest of the day lying there, sleeping, kissing, speaking, neither bring up the envelope tucked behind the identification cards.

_ Himemiya _ , it reads.


End file.
